Toxic
by Twitch Hopeless-Savage
Summary: Draco and Harry are drawn to each other. But they're relationship is toxic. It's poison to themselves and everyone around them.They fight then make love. Hate each other than perfectly fine. In the end it will either ruin them or make them stronger.
1. Chapter 1

**Toxic**

Chapter One

"Potter!" Draco Malfoy sneered, sauntering over to a young man with messy black hair. He looked up and saw Draco. His face immediately turned the colour of a fresh snowfall.

"What are you doing out of bed in the middle of the night?" Draco puffed out his chest so that his prefect caught the light of a torch and gleamed importantly. It gave him great pleasure to flaunt his power, and even more to abuse it. He took particular glee when getting Harry and his golden friends in trouble.

"Umm… well… that is…" Harry mumbled nervously, his eyes darting around the hall. Almost like he was trying to look at everything but Draco. He finally settled on his feet. "I was just…"

Draco interrupted him before he got some lame excuse like, "_Ron is being eaten by a giant chimera_" or "_The Mudblood was taken by evil little dust bunnies that are in league_ _with You-Know-Who and planning to take over the castle."_

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and this is being reported to Professor Snape." Draco took immense delight in Harry's crestfallen face. If he could he would've added in a detention. Cleaning with Filch, perhaps. Draco smiled mentally at the thought of Harry in a little french maid costume cleaning frogspawn off the dungeon ceilings.

"Please…" Harry pleaded. Draco could've burst with joy at this point. Begging. It was such a turn on. "I was looking for you… that's why I'm out. I even dressed up for you. See?" He raised up his arms and began to slowly twirl so Draco could appraise his outfit.

"You were looking for me?" Draco asked, his eyes roving down Harry's body. His mouth opened so wide his jaw almost hit the stone floor.

Harry was standing there dressed in nothing but a pink thong and tube socks. His skin was covered in goose pimples from the cold. Green eyes watched Draco closely for any hint of approval.

Draco was speechless. Electricity was raging through his body as he slowly began to harden against his will. Blush sprung up all over his pale white face. He looked away but Harry's bare skin was like a magnet and Draco again found himself staring in awe at the raw sexiness and beauty of the young man standing before him. His enemy, the boy he hated, the boy who landed his father in prison, Harry Potter.

But all Draco felt was hunger and desire. He wanted to touch every inch of the tanned body before him. To discover what made it reel in pleasure, to find out what made it tick.

Harry opened his mouth and said the words that sent chills down Draco's spine. The words that made Draco harder than he had ever been.

"My body is yours. All you have to do is come and take it."

Draco just stood there, staring, his pants bulging out in the crotch. Harry smirked.

"You want me, you stupid fag? Do you want to fuck me? Do you want to caress me?" Harry whispered in his ear, his breath skirting across Draco's sweaty face, sending chills down his spine. "What would your father think?"

&

Draco sat up in bed, panting. The bedsheets and his pyjamas were drenched in a cold sweat, clinging to his body. Darkness pushed in around him, making the images in his head all the more vivid.

It was the same every night. Harry in a state of near nudity offering up his body for Draco to have if he could and take it. Teasing him, taunting him. Always so close in the end, so close for Draco to touch, but he never did. Never. He wasn't gay… he wasn't a fucking poofter. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. His blood was purer than pure. He was going to marry a pureblood woman and have pureblood children. That was his path in life, his father expected it. Being gay didn't fit in.

_"Than why do you dream about Potter every night? How come you pretend to hate him so much?"_ He asked himself, staring at the black hangings encircling his bed. It was like he was in some different world where the only person was himself. _"Why is it that when you jerk yourself you always think about Harry? No matter how hard you try to imagine Pansy blowing you she always turns into him. And don't forget what happened with…"_

"SHUT-UP!" he shouted, throwing his hands over his ears to block out his thoughts. "I won't listen to you… you're wrong."

There was no answer. The gloom around him was silent except for the dull, rhythmic snoring of Crabbe. Slowly his breathing returned to normal but he still felt like something was lurking on the edge of his mind, something waiting in the blackness to pounce on him when he fell back to sleep. And he had a strong suspicion that the thing was Harry in the pink thong and tube socks, ready to finish off what he started.

He couldn't back to sleep… he couldn't dream about that. He'd tried potions for dreamless sleeps but Harry still crept in like a cockroach, infesting his mind with his filth. So instead he whipped up a potion that kept him awake, all night if necessary. He had to use it at least four times a week, and the dreams were becoming more and more frequent. A few more sleepless nights and Draco would probably collapse in the middle of class.

Still, he reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a small, worn flask. Slipping out of bed he padded across the softly carpeted floor to the pitcher of water sitting on a small table in the centre of the room. Pouring himself a glass of cool water he added a drop of the thick, honey coloured liquid from the flask and swirled it around with his finger.

When the potion had dissolved he tipped back his head and downed the whole concoction in one gulp, slamming the glass back onto the table. But in the dark he miscalculated and the glass fell to the floor, shattering over the carpet.

"What the hell is going on?" A dark face peered out from the black bed hangings. "Draco is that you?"

"Yeah, it is Blaise. Just broke a glass, go back to bed. I can deal with it," Draco whispered to his roommate, hoping that he would drop back to sleep. The last thing he wanted was to be around people right now. Especially Blaise.

"Oh, okay. 'Night then." Blaise pulled his hangings shut and within seconds his breathing became slow and even paced.

Sighing, Draco pulled out his wand and fixed the glass, which hopped back up onto the table. He screwed the top of the flask back on and replaced it back in the drawer. A small dose like that would probably keep him going till dawn when he could go down to the dinging hall and drink a lot of coffee. The potion worked, but it was never a good idea to use it more than once a day. You could end up awake for an entire month before dying of exhaustion. So that meant Draco was left to his own devises during the day, no potion to keep him up.

Now that he was awake Draco pulled on his silk dressing robe over his pale green pyjamas and shuffled into his slippers.

The common room was almost entirely quiet. The only sound was the crackling of burning wood in the fireplace, which cast an eerie orange light over the whole room.

Draco fell into a plush armchair and stared into the dancing flames, wondering what it would be like if life was different.

If his father wasn't in jail… if the Dark Lord hadn't torn his family apart… if he didn't have these feelings inside of him that he didn't want. He hated Harry, more than anyone in the world. He hated that his rival seemed to have life made for him. Everyone liked him when he wasn't being too much of a jerk and he wasn't confused.

But why was he dreaming about Harry? How come whenever he was near him he wanted to touch Harry's body so much that he hated himself for it afterwards? Why was he drawn to the Boy-Who-Lived when he had the perfect pureblooded girlfriend that would do anything for him, had done anything with him? Why was it when he was with her all he could think about was Harry?

Draco held his hand to his head, telling himself that he was simply sick. Sixth year had definitely been somewhat of an adjustment. Even with fewer classes he had more homework than ever.

That was it. He was over-worked and sick. He wasn't in love with Harry. He wasn't gay. He was sick… just sick.

_"But what about that night…"_

&

"What's the matter, honey? You look absolutely wasted?" Pansy Parkinson crooned, hugging him from the back. Draco sort of fell back into her before going back to his fifth cup of coffee. The potion wore off about an hour before dawn so he had had to force himself to stay awake to escape the hunger that lurked for him in sleep. Now staying up for half the night had caught up to him and he was ready to collapse. This was the third time in the last five days. He wasn't sure he could take anymore of it.

"Eh, too much homework. I think I may be getting a little sick, that's all. Nothing to worry about, love." Your boyfriend is not a fag. Everything is just fine.

"Miss Parkinson," snapped a harsh voice from behind them.

Draco turned to see Pansy standing face to face with Professor McGonnagall. The transfiguration teacher did not look amused; her lip was doing that weird thin line thing. Even from behind he could tell Pansy was mortified, her knees were locked tight and quivering.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked, attempting a tone of innocence.

"Would you please lower your skirt? We run a school not a whore house." With that Professor McGonnagall marched off towards the head tables, her emerald green robes billowing behind her.

Draco looked back at Pansy who was unrolling her skirt back to knee length, muttering darkly. "Fucking prude… probably never had sex in her life… probably never even been kissed."

"Be nice, Pans. She was just doing her job." Draco really didn't know what the point of her skirt being so short anyway. She already had a boyfriend. Him. Why would she want to flaunt herself like that?

"Easy for you to say. Not that it ever matters, you never even notice when my skirt is shorter than normal," Pansy pouted, getting into the bench next to him. "You're such a mystery. I never seem to be able to find what turns you on besides sex. What do you find sexy?" She stared at the side of his face intensely.

Was that true? Did he never notice when she was wearing her skirt short?

_No, because all you want to see is Harry in that little thong…_

'No,' Draco told himself. 'No. I do notice… I'm just too polite to look that's all. Nothing queer about that. My father always taught me to be kind and courteous to a woman, never stare at her curves.' And Pansy's bare legs were definitely curvaceous.

"You, baby," Draco said, kissing her neck softly. "And I'd ravage you right now if we didn't have an audience." All his actions and words were correct but it still felt wrong.

As Pansy began to whisper sweet dirty nothings into his ear, Draco looked up at the door leading into the Great Hall.

Just then Harry walked in flanked on both sides by Hermione and Ron. The Golden Trio. His black hair stood up wildly, sex hair he'd heard some girls call it. Then those penetrating eyes, the colour of emerald. A Seeker's slim build finished off everything beautifully.

For a second he thought about Harry whispering how he wanted to touch his hard dick…

"Shit!" Draco shouted, jumping out of his seat after realising what he was doing. Pansy, who had been leaning on him, toppled onto the ground, her skirt riding up almost to the point where he could see her thong. People around them began to laugh as Draco helped his girlfriend back up.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he told her, dusting off her shirt. "I just… I just have to go to the bathroom really bad."

Pansy studied his face like she knew what he had been thinking seconds before. "It's okay," she reluctantly said. "Go and I'll see you in transfiguration."

Draco kissed her cheek, threw his book bag over his shoulder and rushed from the hall, wanting to look back at Harry but forcing himself not to. He was straight! It was as simple as that. There wasn't an ounce of gay in him. It all boiled down to an undue amount of stress.

At least he was pretty sure that it was.

_"Or maybe you're actually gay…"_

&


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"So it's over with Pierce? Just like that?" Hermione Granger asked, taking a sip of orange juice. "I thought you said he was the 'Perfect Guy' and 'Your One True Love'."

"Jesus, Hermione," Harry snapped, looking around the table to make sure no one was eaves dropping on them. "Do you always remember everything that comes out of my mouth? That was a week ago, before I found out he was a pothead and nympho."

"Get used to it, mate," Ron Weasley said, shovelling a pile of sausages onto his plate. "Hermione will never forget anything, especially if it holds some sort of leverage." He looked at his girlfriend darkly.

"Give it a rest, Ronald," Hermione suggested. "You are blowing it way out of proportion. I just thought it would be best to remind yourself of the vow you made when we started going out."

"Uh oh." Having been Ron and Hermione's friend for almost six years he could smell a fight from a mile away. "What happened this time?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione held up her wand and his voice died in his throat. He glared at Hermione angrily and took a large bite out of the sausage speared at the end of his fork, smiling evilly.

Only Harry noticed and he didn't mention it to Hermione. He had to see what Ron had up his sleeve. Then he'd bolt out of there as fast as he could. It didn't pay to get in the middle of one of Ron and Hermione's fights, which had quickly become legendary in the Gryfinndor Common Room. They weren't nasty, all out war. Just petty disagreements that got blown totally out of proportion by both parties because they were both so damn stubborn.

But despite that they still loved each other like they'd been married forever, and even more so then some married couples. Harry was still in shock that Petunia and Vernon had had sex to get Dudley. It conjured up nasty thoughts so he pretended Dudley came in the beaks of five, drunk storks who misread their orders and given the Dursleys a baby pig instead. Pity the tail Hagrid had given him had been removed, it suited him so well.

So all in all Harry thought Ron and Hermione were well off, and it made him so jealous. For them it was so easy. They were in love and that was that. For Harry is wasn't so simple. As hard as he tried no one loved him as much as he loved them. Cho… and now Pierce. Was he like a love repellent or something?

Harry looked up at Hermione to ask her how she was able to love Ron so much when he annoyed the crap out of her as she was lifting a class of orange juice to her lips. That's when Ron got his revenge. Without a second to loose he raised up his wand and brought it down. There was a low whipping noise as several strands of thread shot from the tip in the direction of Hermione's mouth. And before anyone knew what was going on her lips were sewed shut just as she tipped back the glass. So instead of going into her mouth the juice spilled down the front of her robes, soaking them through. Her eyes were like daggers as she glared at Ron silently laughing.

Harry shot out of his seat, grabbing his book bag. "I need to go to the library to finish Slughorn's essay." Neither Hermione or Ron acknowledged him; they only had eyes for each other right now. Harry could almost feel the love. "Well I'll see you then."

Out in the hall a few students shuffled around, going over homework or last minute quizzing before some test they had. Harry slipped his bag onto his shoulder, contemplating what he should in the half-hour before class started.

"Harry," called a tall Ravenclaw boy with short blue hair and a slightly round face from across the hall, waving happily.

"_Oh crap,"_ Harry thought. When he told Hermione that is was over with Pierce he'd meant to say that it was going to be, as soon as he broke up with him.

"Hi, Pierce." Harry walked up to him, twisting the strap of his bag nervously. He'd never broke up with anyone before so he had idea how someone would take getting dumped. Though he had a feeling that Pierce wouldn't mind. All he cared about was screwing and getting high. Harry on the other hand was quite in love with him, which was why he was still so reluctant to break up. "How's it going?"

"Good," Pierce went to grab Harry's hand but hen let if fall short when he realised that they were in the middle of everyone. " Can we go somewhere and talk?"

There was a solemnity to his voice that scared Harry. Pierce was usually upbeat and silly. It was almost like he was going to dump Harry, which wasn't fair because he was going to dump him first.

"Umm… sure…"

They walked up to the first floor in silence, then locked themselves in an empty classroom they'd used many times before to make-out in. There was a small bed in the corner that Pierce had stolen from a storage room in the dungeons, its sheets perfectly folded and pressed.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, to dump Pierce first but fell silent at his boyfriend's raised hand. "Please Harry, let me say what I need to say."

'_Here it goes, I'm going to be dumped now._'

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour this weekend," Pierce, this time grabbing Harry's hand for real this time. Harry's eyes widened.

"Apologise?" Harry asked in awe, feeling that he had totally underestimated Pierce somewhere along the line. That wasn't right. Pierce was supposed to be dumping him. 

"Yeah." Pierce smiled sheepishly. "I'm about as shocked as you."

Harry laughed, watching the bemused look on Pierce's face. How in the world could he have ever considered dumping him?

"The thing is, what you said was true. I do have a problem. I love you… I really do." His fingers caressed the back of Harry's hand. "But I didn't express it right. I thought love was shared through sex. It was what you said that had me thinking all weekend. So I decided to abstain from sex for a few weeks to see if maybe we can build our relationship on a different level."

Harry was completely taken aback. Pierce had said everything that he'd wanted to hear for so long. All thoughts of breaking up were lost.

"What do you think?" Pierce asked, looking nervous. The sun outside bathed him in a golden light and for a split second he looked like an angel.

"I think that I'm more in love you then I was before," Harry breathed, pressing himself against Pierce and wrapping his arms around his waist. His head titled up and stared into Pierce's face. Pierce bent his head down and their lips met tenderly, softly devouring each other. Harry's heart beat to quicken against his as they melted together in love, a thousand miles away from Hogwarts and anything else.

Pierce was the first to pull away, his eyes slowly caressing Harry's face and lips. "You are so beautiful."

"So are you," Harry whispered, backing away. He glanced down at his watch. "Shit! The bell rings in four minutes."

They both shouldered their bags and slipped out into the halls, which were by now almost empty, just a few stragglers who were too busy hurrying along to notice Harry and Pierce leave the room together.

"See you later?" Pierce asked, ruffling Harry's hair lovingly.

"We'll see," Harry teased. "Now get going or you'll be late."

"Love you," Pierce whispered before sprinting off down the corridor. His classroom was on the sixth floor on the other side of the castle.

"Love you, too," Harry said to his retreating back, before turning around and heading to his class at the end of the hall. He slipped into Transfiguration right as the bell rang. Hermione was sitting in the front, her homework sitting impressively before her. Her lips were back to normal, though more pursed than usual.

Her eyes met Harry's questioningly. She could tell he had been up to something, she could always tell.

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed.

He walked to that back of the classroom and took his normal seat next to Ron. His best friend was slouched low, glaring at Hermione's stiff back. He gave Harry a mere nod, before continuing to glare. Things must have gotten pretty bad after he left.

Professor McGonnagall walked in just as he was about to lean over and ask Ron what happened so he decided to wait until bed.

"Good morning, students. Please get out your essays and pass them to the front."

&

Harry walked out of class with Hermione and Ron standing silently at his sides. Whenever they wanted to insult the other or make a point they'd do it through Harry.

"Harry, can you please tell Ronald that he sucks in bed?" Hermione said finally after several minutes of banal insults. Ron stopped, his face turning bright red with anger and humiliation. In Harry's opinion Hermione had taken it just a little too far.

"You know what?" he said in an annoyed voice. "You two can just settle this without me. I'm out of here." Before either of them could offer a lame apology he marched off, his shoes clacking angrily on the stone floor. God, they could be so bloody annoying sometimes. And did he really need to know about their escapades in the bedroom? No.

Turning a corner Harry was met with an image almost as disturbing as imagining his best friends shagging. Leaning against a wall, Draco Malfoy had Pansy Parkinson hanging onto his neck with her large red lips. But he didn't look like he was particularly enjoying it, in fact he looked down right sick.

His face was paler than normal and his grey eyes were hollow and bloodshot, ringed by large black circles that stood out prominently on his white skin. Usually his pale blonde hair was slicked back but now it hung limply in his face, swaying whenever his body moved.

As if he felt Harry watching him Draco looked up and stared right back, his empty eyes suddenly full of fear, anger, and anguish all at the same time. A red blush was slowly creeping up his face. "What the hell are you looking at?" he croaked, definitely a far cry from the cool, confident, slimy way he usually spoke. Though Harry could still see a faint mask of the superiority he normally carried.

"I was just thinking that you two should get a room," Harry said back, trying to force out as much malice and disgust as he could with the statement. It worked, the only hint of power Draco seemed to have shattered and he just looked away, softly touching Pansy's face as she glared comically at Harry.

"Leave him alone, Potter. My poor Draco isn't feeling well. Right sweety?" She looked up at Draco lovingly, pushing some of his hair away from his face.

"Right," Draco agreed, giving Harry a fleeting glance that was barely noticeable. But Harry saw it and for a split second he thought Draco was going to burst into tears.

Then Pansy took over again and Draco was relinquished to the shadows. "So get lost, Potter. Before I take away points for harassment."

"Whatever," he muttered, walking away. Pansy was getting a lot more nasty now that she had been made a prefect. How it had happened Harry was unsure, all he knew is that if he was Head Master she wouldn't even be allowed in. Her or Draco. After they ganged up with Umbridge last year, Harry had absolutely no trust in their character. They were evil through and through.

As he walked down the halls Harry wondered what was wrong with Draco. It just wasn't today, it had been the last couple of months. He had stopped abusing his power, he talked less, and spent more time out of sight. And his appearance got more slovenly every time Harry saw him. _"Probably all depressed cuz his daddy is in jail now."_

The sound of screaming roused Harry from his thoughts. All around the hall people were backing up against walls, pointing at the ground. Looking down Harry saw a little mouse running right towards his feet.

Harry moved to the side to let it past but it stopped in front of him, staring up expectantly. Its little nose twitched so fast that it almost looked like it wasn't moving at all. That's when Harry noticed a ring around its neck. Silver, set with sapphire. The same one Pierce wore.

Leaning down Harry picked up the mouse and brought it up to his face to study it more carefully. People began to back away from him, staring at the mouse like it was liable to jump out of his hands and attack them.

Harry jumped in surprise as it burst into flames. Someone screeched. As the smoke cleared a small origami mouse sat in Harry's hand, surrounded by a rings of ashes.

After blowing off the ash Harry unfolded the paper, pocketing the ring to return to Pierce later. His boyfriend's large, neat handwriting filled the paper.

"Hope the mouse didn't scare you too much. Just a little bit." Harry laughed. "So I was thinking maybe we could sneak out tonight and go down to Hogsmeade. There's this new little café some friends told me about. It is supposed to be quite cool. Write you're your answer at the bottom of the page and refold it. Once you put the ring back around its neck it should turn into a mouse and come back to me. Waiting for a reply. Love, Pierce."

Harry went all warm inside as he pulled out a quill and ink, quickly penning, "Yes" at the bottom of the page. After putting his stuff away in his bag Harry folded the mouse back up and slipped the ring around its neck.

Instantly it became a mouse. Harry lowered it to the ground and it scurried off, dashing between the legs of frightened students. Watching it go Harry hoped that it didn't run into Mrs. Norris on its way back.

Harry had a free hour so he decided to spend it by the lake, under the beech tree. McGonnagall had assigned a lot of book work and it was best that he got a head start on it. Especially since he would probably be out all night. It made him happy to finally see Pierce making an effort. He'd known he had it inhim, it was just a matter of getting through to him. And judging by his behaviour Harry had done a rather good job.

Outside the castle the day was mildly warm, a perfect spring day. Harry breathed in a the fresh air and was happy to be alive.

&


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

"Stupid fucking jerk-off," Draco muttered darkly, slamming his book bag onto his desk, wishing that the wooden surface was Harry's face. He was such a fucking dumb-ass. Get a room? Come on. And the way he'd said it, with such hate and anger, it really made Draco's day that much worse.

Blaise Zabini whipped around, his eyes gleaming menacingly. And somehow the laughs just keep rolling on in_. 'What did I do to deserve this?' _Draco asked himself, wishing that maybe Blaise could burst into a thousand little pieces so he wouldn't have to deal with him. Unfortunately wishes rarely, if ever, came true.

"You'd better not be talking about me," he hissed. His voice was smooth, creamy, and dripping with suggestion. There as not a single hint of breaking or cracking anywhere on him, Draco was disappointed. Another wish for the dump pile.

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco muttered, slumping down in his seat as Professor Binns floated through the chalk board and settled before his podium. But Blaise didn't turn to face the front of the class, he continued to stare at Draco. No one ever paid Binns any attention, nor did he pay them any. Everyone just did their own thing and it was all good.

Attempting to ignore Blaise Draco pulled out a copy of "The Adventures of Marvin Miggs the Mad Muggle" and began to read., his eyes looking over the comic from time to time to see Blaise still staring at him, a contemplative look in his eyes.

"May I ask who it is?" Blaise finally whispered , pushing the comic down out of Draco's face. His chocolate eyes drilled right into the cold, grey pits Draco watched him from.

"Who what is?" Draco asked, pulling his comic from Blaise's grip and sticking it back into his bag. He had to keep busy or he was sure that his hands would begin to uncontrollably shake and sweat would seep out of his pores. Don't think about that night, just pretend it didn't happen.

"The 'stupid fucking jerk off'. I was wondering who it was." He grinned slyly at Draco, his white teeth a sharp contrast from the dark skin around them. A foot slipped up Draco's pant leg.

Draco jerked away, glaring at Blaise, who was laughing and still smiling daringly. Draco could have sworn that the young man was winking at him. "That's none of your business," he quietly snapped. "Now will you please leave me alone?" He looked around to make sure no one was watching them, and sure enough they weren't. Sitting in the back corner always had its perks.

Blaise ignored him. "Did you and Potter have a lover's tiff?"

Draco froze. Partly of fear at being discovered and partly anger for it being such a foul lie. He tried to laugh it off. "Me and Potter? Yeah right… what have you been smoking?"

"You whisper his name in your sleep? Almost every night…" Blaise looked a little pissed when he said this, but a second later he was back to his sleek, confident manner.

If there was a mirror nearby Draco knew his reflection would be paler than a ghost. He was trying to hold on to his cool but it was long gone. Only half-heartedly he looked up at Blaise to give him his lame excuse. "I… hate… Har… I mean Potter. I hate him. How do you know I wasn't having a dream about killing him?" Draco was proud of himself, that had come out a lot stronger than he thought it would. He'd even remembered to smile mysteriously and raise his eyebrow.

Blaise didn't even give it any thought. He learned forward till his mouth was almost pressed against Draco's ear. Draco felt his heartbeat pick up pace. "I know. When you say his name you're hard… I can see your boner through the sheets."

Draco jerked away, almost falling out of his seat. "I'm not a fag," he hissed. "How dare you say… Wait how do you know I'm… oh shit…" Draco could've hit himself over the head at this point.

Blaise laughed, a little too loud. People turned to look at them. Binns just kept on lecturing.

Draco sat in silence, watching to see if Blaise would say anything with everyone staring. Blaise just looked right back at him, his eyes full of glee.

Soon everyone grew bored and went back to whatever they were doing, listening to Binns excluded.

"I watch you while you sleep," Blaise finally said, looking away from Draco in embarrassment. "After last Saturday, well I thought we were, ya know… dating. And I've been in love with you since the first day I laid eyes on you. Shit…" he held his head in his large, elegant hands. After a few seconds he looked back up at Draco, who was sitting in stunned silence. "Can you just tell me, truthfully whether what we did meant something to you, or was it just another fuck?"

Finally Draco was forced to relive that night he had tried so hard to forget. Blaise had smuggled firewhiskey into the castle during their last Hogsmeade visit, and last Saturday they'd just been hanging out in the dorm when he offered some to Draco.

They both got completely pissed and one thing lead to another…

When Draco woke up he was wrapped in Blaise's dark arms, naked. For a split second everything felt right, but when he realised what he had done Draco freaked out. For the last week he had been doing his best to avoid Blaise.

'But you still really liked it. Blaise inside of you… you even imagined him as Harry Potter.'

"I was just…" Draco began, ignoring himself.

"Really drunk?" Blaise laughed sarcastically. "If only I had a galleon for every time someone told me that." Tears were welling up in his eyes.

Draco felt horrible. What had happened was just a mistake, and if he'd realised Blaise had liked him, well they never would have been alone in the first place. He reached out and touched Blaise's hand. "I'm sorry, but I'm not gay. I'm going with Pansy. We do things together, I like it."_ Especially when you imagine that she's Harry. _"Please understand," he said in a slightly louder whisper to drown out his inner voice.

Blaise looked down at Draco's hand on his own and then up at Draco himself. He recognised the confusion on his face, he saw that Draco was struggling inside. Pulling away his hand he nodded gravely. "I understand." He looked at Draco pitifully and swivelled in his seat to stare at the front wall

Draco sat there, watching the back of his head.

'_He knows, too. He knows what you're going through.'_

'_I am not going through anything! The freak was watching me as I slept.'_

Even though Draco tried to be disgusted, secretly he thought it was a little cute and kind of hot. Very hot. Not in a gay way though, of course. Just in a "someone wants my balls so bad they watch me as I sleep" way.

And everything he said about Draco being hard as he dreamt about Potter, that was absurd. He was sick and stressed out. His body was just reacting a little different, that's all.

'_How long are you going to live in denial?'_

&

Draco walked up the empty corridor, his fingers lazily dragged along the stone wall. A hall pass hung around his neck.

The close proximity in which he was sitting with Blaise had been a little uncomfortable. Everything the young man said kept running through Draco's head so fast it was liable to explode. And every time he looked up at the back of Blaise's head he remembered that night as Blaise's head bobbed up and down in his lap. How Draco longed to run his hands through that short, curly, dark brown hair one last time.

'_Not gay, eh?' _

That's when he asked Binns for a hall pass, grabbed his bag and ran. Blaise watched sadly as he left the room, Draco could feel his gaze all the way. It made his heart race.

Without even planning it Draco found himself sauntering along the second floor corridor. Up ahead he recognised the all to familiar "Out of Order" sign hanging on the door of the girls' lavatory, swaying in a draft from an open window.

Moaning Myrtle. She was the only friend Draco had now. She listened to him, really listened. He told her everything, things he wouldn't talk about with Pansy, things he wouldn't even talk about with himself. Whenever he cried he could feel her arms wrapped around him, and even though it sent chills down his spines it was still comforting to know that someone cared.

"Myrtle?" he called, pushing the door open a crack. "Are you in there?"

No one answered. Draco pushed open the door wider. There was no sound, not even the regular sobs and moans from Myrtle. Just total silence. Draco felt like he could cry, all he needed right now was a friend, but there was no one there.

'_How dare she,' _Draco thought angrily, letting the door slam shut. He leaned up against the wall outside the bathroom to wait for her to return. '_The one time I really need her and she's gone. It's not like she has a _life_ or anything.' _Draco chuckled dryly, more out of desperation than amusement.

Something raced over Draco's foot softly, scaring the shit out of him. He looked down to see Mrs. Norris chasing a small mouse, her back legs pushing strongly against the stones as she leapt.

Before he knew what was going on Draco pulled out his wand and froze Mrs. Norris in mid-leap, her body falling heavily to the ground. Eyes wide open in anger. The mouse ran up a wall and began to shuffle across the ceiling, its tail dangling, tantalising the petrified cat.

"WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAT!" Draco heard Filch's screeching from the floor below. He knew, he always knew. Stupid Filch and his stupid mind thing with his cat.

Draco booked before he as caught. He took one look up at the safe mouse crawling on the ceiling and kept going, dashing up stairs and through tapestries until he was sure that he had lost Filch. He leaned against a wall, breathing heavily.

"Thought you could escape, did you?" A rough hand wrapped around Draco's arm, and tugged him up straight. Filch leered at him, smiling disturbingly. His teeth were brown and rotting, twisted in all directions. "You're coming with me, cat murderer."

"But… but…" And then Draco did begin to cry, as Filch dragged him along the corridor. Life really was fucking him over right now. Nothing good was happening, at all. Just one angst ridden moment to the next.

"Stop yer blubberin'. Be a man…"

And crying in front of Filch wasn't even close to an improvement on matters.

That's when Draco felt an urge deep down in the pit of his being. Hunger for love, Harry's love. He would've sold his soul to be kissing Harry right now, to know that everything was going to be okay, to know that there was still some good left in the world.

And for once he didn't contradict himself.


End file.
